Light's Requiem
by MrNameless12472
Summary: The worlds of Code Geass and Death Note collide in a story of two teenagers who have the powers to change the world. Collab between MrNameless12472 and DarkLily17
1. Prologue

A son of a Japanese police chief, who disappeared during the war.

An exiled Britannian prince, presumed dead in the invasion.

My name is CC; or at least, that's what they call me. We will follow the journey of these two souls as their quests intertwine.

Lelouch, a youth of Britannia, was driven towards his goals by seeking revenge for the death of his mother, Marianne vi Britannia; he desperately yearned to see a world in which his disabled sister, Nunally, could be happy.

Light, a youth of Japan, was motivated by a sense of justice. He felt many of the parasites inhabiting this world did not deserve to live- specifically, those criminals who took or destroyed lives. He was incredibly intelligent and idealistic, but had no way of realising his dream of a "perfect world".

At first glance, the two might have seemed more different than could have been imagined. And yet, they were to become more significant allies than could have been expected of either; an alliance, in fact, that would change the world.

* * *

_A.N: Well, this should be fun. A little collaboration between myself and DarkLily17. She'll be covering Light while I cover our darling Lulu... If you like the premise we'll be seeing you in chapter One :)_


	2. The Gift of Geass

Lelouch looked around with disgust at the extravagance that lay around him. The Britannians, whatever you thought of them, were masters of using their resources to their own ends. These captains of industry were nothing more than slave drivers, lying around exploiting the workforce while the Numbers toiled to build their empire of grandeur. Keeping a straight face, he and his best friend, Rivalz Cardemonde, entered the door to the gambling quarters.

"-hmm. Did your substitute arrive?" came a voice from a large armchair facing the door. A conceited looking nobleman occupied it, looking somewhat bored with the experience of beating those less skilled than him at chess.

"T-Thank heavens! Are things going well at school?" Stuttered an older man, clearly shaking by being thrashed so soundly by the noble.

"What have we here? Schoolboys?" A smug grin crossed the nobleman's wide face.

"Hmm. Well look at this, a nobleman" Lelouch replied, ignoring the condescending question. He'd barely spoken eight words to the man, and already formed a deep dislike for him.

"I envy you kids today, you have so much time on your hands. Time for regrets. What's your name?"

"Lelouch. Lamperouge". He maintained his look of indifference, wishing to strike the man who would consider him an inferior because of age. Beating him in chess would have to suffice.

"-Woah, now wait a minute! You can't win this one, it's impossible, right?!" Burst in Rivalz, tactless as usual.

"Rivalz? When do you think we would have to leave, in order to make our next class?"

"Uhh, twenty minutes, if we bust our hump?" came the uncertain reply. No matter. How long would he need?

"Then be sure that you drive safely on the way back... I'll need nine minutes. And by the way, about yesterday..." he began to the old man.

"Understood sir. We-We'll discuss it later", he replied, obviously dodging the conversation of payment.

"Nine minutes? You only have twenty seconds per move!"

"...enough time." mused Lelouch, shifting his first piece.

"You start with the King?!" The parasite clearly found this hilarious.

The man was clearly an experienced player- Lelouch could tell from his serious face and calculated moves. However, being raised in the imperial family had its perks. A competitive nature was inherent, and Lelouch had honed it to a fine point. In the next five moves, he had captured four of his opponents pieces, and by the 25th move, he casually glanced over at the clock, read the time of 8:32 and declared-

"Checkmate."

The nervous look upon the man's face shifted through disbelief, into confusion, and finally anger, before settling on a look of shock. He could not risk his position by harming a Britannian student, so silently handed over the pre-agreed wager without a word, before retreating to his quarters to bemoan his losses.

Lelouch silently turned on his heel, nodding at the old man looking on with a look of admiration, and strode from the room, Rivalz hurrying along at his side.

"I love playing against the nobility! When they lose, they always pay out of pride. By the way, eight minutes 32 seconds... that's a new record!" Rivalz never ceased to be amazed by his friend's cool sense of calm, even in confined situations.

"He didn't have much time to move either. And as opponents go, the nobles are tepid. They're just overpriveliged parasites, that's all."

"Then why don't you challenge one of the Elevens? They're nothing like us Britannians!

Elevens. A word Lelouch had loathed ever since he was separated from his childhood friend Suzaku Kururugi. The official term for those of Japanese descent, it was now derogatory, used to demean and intimidate, to enforce the bullying of the weak by the strong; a philosophy Lelouch hated with a passion

Descending the stairs proved a more interesting task than usual. Lelouch's lack of physical prowess (he was consistently losing at sports) notwithstanding, the fact that his half brother was speaking from the 50-foot screen across the square made for some intriguing discoveries. The usual hateful rhetoric and transparent attempts to sympathise, delivered by Prince Clovis La Britannia, a man whose demeanour was that of a spoilt child, desperately seeking the next new set of clothes.

The silence the Viceroy had called for cut across the square. An enquiry from Rivalz as to whether he was joining in was rebuffed with a simple reversal of the question. Speaking more to himself than to anyone in particular, he began.

"Spilling tears over those people won't bring them back to life now, will it? It's all about self-satisfaction. Doesn't matter how hard you try, you can't do it. There's no way you can change the world."

Without another word, The pair set off by motorbike, back towards the Britannian-run Ashford Academy. After a few minutes, Rivalz seemed to be curious enough to investigate.

"That first move you made... why'd you start with the king?"

Oh, that was simple enough.

"If a king doesn't lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?" It was true. Lelouch had always believed that, and would likely die following it.

"Do you fantasise about running a major corporation?

"No way. Ambitions like that will ruin your health!" He joked. His look of humour quickly turned to one of shock as a loud horn sounded urgently somewhere close behind.

A huge truck, military in appearance, was swerving wildly as it attempted to manoeuvre around the bike. Lelouch knew instantly this was no ordinary traffic incident, but Rivalz had lost his cool, and was screaming that this was the end. The truck veered violently to the left, crashed through a barrier, and smashed hard into a cluster of buildings which seemed to be some sort of building site.

Lelouch stood on the overpass, observing the crowds gathering and offering their useless non-solutions to nobody in particular. What's more, he saw odd light emanating from the wrecked truck. This situation was different to others; it felt right to help.

Clambering over the barrier and rushing to the truck, he was climbing onto the roof and yelling for the passengers' attention when the truck, without warning, lurched backwards. They were heading away again- this time with a new passenger on board, though they didn't know it yet. Apparently there was no ladder on the inside of the vehicle. A rather fatal design flaw, Lelouch mused, given the current circumstances.

Turning away from where a well-designed vehicle would have had some means of escape, worry now filling his stomach, his interest turned to a large, rounded, capsule-like device occupying a large area of the transporter's interior. It was a dark red in colour, softly humming, and was marked with the words "CODE R. HAZARDOUS MATERIAL". What horrors had they been working on to annihilate more of the resistance now? Who knew, and more who cared. The resistance could have had the most noble cause in the world, but without a coherent direction or sense of leadership, what could they ever hope to accomplish? If a king wouldn't lead...

A rattling sound echoed throughout the vehicle and a bolt slid back to reveal a red-haired girl with a look on her face conveying both panic and determination. With some skill, given the increasing motion sickness he was feeling, Lelouch pulled himself up and swung behind a nearby support neighbouring the capsule- he couldn't risk being seen by these people (he presumed they were terrorists) while wearing a Britannian school uniform.

The girl shouted something incomprehensible to the driver, who hit the accelerator hard as she leapt into a large machine Lelouch had previously failed to notice. A Knightmare Frame. A whipping sound tore the air and the helicopters that had been tailing the truck were blown backwards, falling like paper in the wind.

"You boys know what this bad-ass mother can do!!" she yelled through the Knightmare's loudspeaker, but even as her words echoed, drop ships rocketed overhead, delivering stronger, newer, more advanced Knightmares into the fray.

The driver lurched to the left, not pausing for an instant to slow down. The truck lifted itself slightly off one wheel, propelling Lelouch against a wall with a crack, but righted and continued its trajectory with a bump and an increasing silence.

Judging by the rising levels of darkness and the rough surface they were driving along, they were underground. Likely the subway, which meant no reception on his phone. Damn. Where was he to go from here? If the terrorists found hi he would be killed. If the Britannian forces found him he would be executed. If he jumped from the truck he would be electrocuted or die of shock. But Lelouch was not one to abandon hope quickly. He would just have to hold on and-

His thoughts were interrupted by a jarring blow to the head and a feeling of having been lifted from his feet. He was acutely aware of an absence of movement, which, he supposed, at least offered an opportunity to escape the truck, if not the situation. The clasps on the cargo door had apparently finally given up their pretensions of security and buckled under the intense strain placed upon them. Shoddy building by the Britannian military? Or the attempts of the terrorists to steal it?

His intuitions were telling him that simply walking from the truck was only going to serve to hinder him. The truck was his guide, his landmark to help in his rescue. He would climb the ominous device in the centre of the vehicle, and stay there until reinforcements arrives. They would never execute a Britannian pure-blood. The fools were obsessed with the idea that to be a Britannian made you practically royal, a cut above the rest. Well maybe they'd find out today that the Elevens could be all too clever themselves; all they lacked was a leader, after all, and-

Lelouch didn't see it coming. The soldier launched himself toward the schoolboy with the force of a freight train, flooring him with a single kick to the head.

"B-Britannian?" Gasped Lelouch. He could only hope. The last thing he needed now was to be taken hostage by the terrorists.

"That's enough mindless murder!!" Screamed the soldier, evidently mistaking him for a terrorist. Unobservant of him, not noticing the uniform.

"Wait, I'm not one of-" he stammered.

"Planning to use poison gas? Don't play dumb with me!" The soldier shook him, evidently hoping for some result. There was something different in this one.. Some humanity. Compassion. A willingness to do whatever necessary to save lives.

"Get off me! I'm not here by choice. And besides, if that's poison gas it was made in Britannia, wasn't it?" He retorted, somewhat defensively, kicking the man away. "Mindless murder? Then why don't you just obliterate Britannia?!"

"Lelouch, it's me!!" the stranger yelled, giving the pair cause to stop. He removed his helmet. Lelouch was stunned. It couldn't be. There had to be some sort of mistake. This was not real. After all these years?

"Suzaku?!" He began, but never finished his sentence, because at that moment, light, the brightest Lelouch had ever seen, penetrated the darkness of the subway, erupting in an aurora of colours. And from the light that rent the darkness was a shadow. No, a form, a moving body, not poison gas but a human- or at least what looked like one. She was restrained, in a white straitjacket. Her green hair flowed as if in water, yet she merely floated in the air. And then she was falling, falling into Lelouch's arms.

"Tell me the truth Suzaku? Poison gas? This girl?" Pleaded Lelouch, bewildered. This was well out of his depth.

"It's what they told us in briefing, I swear!!" came the reply, but simultaneously, a spotlight gave a clang as it illuminated the wreckage of the truck. Suzaku hurried to the silhouette of the Britannian officer now facing them with his squad. A heated exchange of words, Lelouch observed. He was still blinded by the lights, but-

A shot rang out in the darkness. A shape span like a rag doll and thudded to the floor. And Lelouch's head was spinning, and Suzaku could not be dead. It was impossible. He wanted to scream, but no sound came. He held the girl, wishing she could help, wishing he could live, but no, this was impossible. He saw words coming from the Britannians' lips, but couldn't make them out. He was in shock. He was going to die. And then came a still more blinding light, and heat, and smoke, and he was on the floor, his head cleared. Now was not the time to follow, to bemoan the loss of Suzaku. Now was the time to lead. He, Lelouch Vi Britannia, the Eleventh Prince of the empire he despised, would live.

The girl was on her feet before Lelouch sat up. She shot off past the dead soldiers, trying to escape, to be free. But he had to stop her. These people, these monsters, who had had no hesitation in executing one of their own, would take pleasure in spilling the blood of an innocent, he was sure. She tripped and fell, her unearthly hair maintaining the supernatural grace with which it descended so softly. She merely looked at Lelouch's purple eyes with her own light brown, seemingly pleading for his assistance.

A staircase!! They were free. But in the ghetto? The army would surely be there. Climbing the cold stone steps, he found light, and, instructing the girl to keep her head down, he exposed his head for a momentary glance at- as he had suspected- a squad of soldiers, wearing the familiar red outfits of the Britannian Royal Guard. Clovis's special troops? What were they doing here? Was this girl so important they would risk pure-bloods?

His phone rang. What perfect timing could Shirley have to call him now? If she was responsible for him dying, he'd kill her, he bizarrely mused to himself, finding humour despite being roughly dragged out by two soldiers. Two more held the green-haired girl, their guns drawn on her.

"What an appropriate location for a terrorist to meet his end." The voice was clear and cold, that of a high-ranking officer. Whatever humour he had felt before was replaced by cold dread. But he could do nothing now but fight or die.

"You scum." He spat, as much venom in his voice as he would have shown for Clovis himself.

"Still, you did well for a student, but that's to be expected. You're a Britannian. Unfortunately, my clever young friend, you have no future." Carried on the Guardsman in his apparent soliloquy. This was it.

"HE MUSTN'T DIE!!" Came a desperate scream. The girl? No, but, she wouldn't-

A crack, once more, ripped the air in two. Suzaku, now the girl he had worked so hard to save? This could not have been all in vain, it wasn't FAIR.

"you... you shot her." he murmured, defeatism spreading to every part of his body. "you... shot her."

"Our orders were to bring her back alive if possible. Oh well, nothing can be done about it now. We'll tell our superiors that the Royal Guard found the terrorist hide-out and killed them all. Regrettably the female hostage had already been tortured to death. What do you think, schoolboy?" The man (or was he less than a man?) smirked, glee and self-aggrandising pride obviously flooding through his veins.

How could this be happening? First Suzaku had been killed, and now this girl? Now he, Lelouch was about to die. Before he'd done a single thing with his life. What of Nunnally?

Then, without provocation or preparation, a voice flooded his head. The voice was INSIDE his head.

"You don't want it to end here, do you?" It was the girl. Impossible. "You appear to have a reason for living. If I grant you power, could you go on? I propose a deal. In exchange for this power you must agree to make my one wish come true. Accept this contract and you accept its conditions. While living in the world of humans, you will live unlike any other.  
A different providence. A different time. A different life. The power of the king will condemn you to a life of solitude. Are you prepared for this?"

He would have done anything. Anything, that day, to survive.

"I hereby accept the terms of your contract." The words themselves seemed to resonate, carrying a kind of power. He felt renewed, alive, liked he could take on an entire army and win. "Say." he turned back towards the Guardsmen. "How should a Britannian who hates his own country live his life?"

"What are you, some kind of radical?" Came the ever-sarcastic reply.

Now was the time to use the power of the king. The power of influence, though how he knew this he was unsure.

"I, Lelouch Vi Britannia, command you... now, all of you, DIE!!" rang out his cry, and the soldiers snapped to a salute, bringing one hand to their head and another to their holsters, drawing handguns and- finally inevitably, as Lelouch watched in a silent mix of terror and glee, simultaneously ended their lives in an anticlimactic, muffled, thud.

From then on, the life of Lelouch Lamperouge (or is that to say Vi Britannia?) would never be the same. For now though, a very different story was taking place. One that would also have it's own, far reaching consequences.


End file.
